


Such a Happy Mess

by capeswithhoods



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1428082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capeswithhoods/pseuds/capeswithhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's legs tremble beneath Irvin's hands, under the way broad palms slide along the smooth flesh of his inner thighs, and he whimpers when Irvin's thumbs brush the soft skin at the crease of his hip and thigh then pull away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such a Happy Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impassivetemerity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impassivetemerity/gifts).



> One day I'm gonna title a fic without using Fall Out Boy lyrics. Today is not that day.
> 
> I figure what better way to celebrate Jean's birthday than with porn right? Also I've been spelling it Irvin for so long I just can't call him Erwin I am so sorry except I'm really not.

Jean's legs tremble beneath Irvin's hands, under the way broad palms slide along the smooth flesh of his inner thighs, and he whimpers when Irvin's thumbs brush the soft skin at the crease of his hip and thigh then pull away. His fingers push up, curling over the slight curve of his hips, and a wave of self-loathing wells up before he can crush it entirely, but then Irvin's mouth is pressing a kiss to his stomach, just below his belly button, and heat blossoms there, makes him ache in all the right ways.

Irvin stops without hesitation once his hands are settled at the bottom of Jean's ribs, and he draws them back down Jean's sides, blunt nails dragging just hard enough to leave light pink marks in their wake. There is a pleased chuckle as Jean squirms under the ministrations, deep from Irvin's chest, and Jean bites down on his lip, making the skin around his teeth go white to keep himself quiet.

Irvin's hands dip low again, and the muscles in Jean's abdomen flutter beneath the almost-too-light pressure.

"You're such a fucking tease, fuck," Jean breathes, hips pushing up, searching for friction.

"I'm admiring you," Irvin says easily, and it's so honest that Jean flushes down past the collar of his shirt, turns his face away, though it doesn't matter really, not with how Irvin is perched between his legs, leaning over him. "I can stop if you're not enjoying yourself."

"Shut up, oh my god, fuck you."

That earns Jean another deep chuckle from Irvin, then the brush of lips through close-trimmed hair, and his hips jerk up before he can stop them, pushing against Irvin's mouth and nose. A strong hand on Jean's lower abdomen pushes him back down and holds him in place, Irvin's forearm pressed across his hip, and it pulls a shaky groan from Jean.

"Stay," Irvin says as he pulls his arm away, and it's not harsh, but it is, without question, an order. Heat flares deep in Jean's abdomen again, and he nods eagerly, earning him a murmur of, "Good boy," that makes him whine.

"Fuck, Irvin, come on, _please_ ," Jean breathes out, and he keeps still even as Irvin's fingers tease along the tops of his thighs, trail to the insides and brush up, up, _up_ , but not nearly up _enough_. "God, just fucking touch me already."

"I am touching you, Jean," Irvin says, laughter in his voice, and Jean whines again, strained, swearing under his breath.

But then Irvin gives in, and the tip of a finger is pushing against Jean, sliding through the absurd amount of wetness that has already gathered between his legs, and he'd be embarrassed by it if it didn't make Irvin groan with want _every fucking time_. The pad of the finger swirls around his clit, teasing for a moment until the pressure is applied directly on it, and Jean makes a pathetic, choked off sound in his throat as his hips twitch toward the friction of their own accord.

Irvin looks down at him, lust leaving his eyes half-lidded and dark with arousal, and he smiles at Jean like he's something precious, like he's worth looking at like that, makes the blush on Jean's cheeks and the tips of his ears darken without saying a word.

Breaths that aren't quite moans yet pull themselves from Jean's chest as Irvin presses another finger against him and starts rubbing slowly, small circles of simmering pleasure that make Jean's toes curl against the sheets. "Please, please," he murmurs, because it's too much and it's not enough and he just wants everything he can get from Irvin.

"Please what, Pet?" Irvin asks and he sounds amused and perfect and the slow rhythm of his fingers doesn't falter even as he shifts his position to hover over Jean, balanced by a hand pressed firmly against the mattress next to his waist. "Tell me what you want."

" _Fingers_ ," Jean says, voice pitched dangerously close to a whine. "God, I want your fucking fingers in me so bad, sir, _please_."

Irvin doesn't hesitate, sliding his fingers down just as slowly as he'd been toying with Jean's clit to slip inside him, pressing up against the slick walls of his cunt. "So greedy, aren't you?" Irvin asks, and it's mostly rhetorical, but Jean nods anyway, back arching as he forces himself not to drive his hips down against Irvin's hand because he'd been told to stay and he can be good when he wants to.

"Fuck, Irvin, _sir_ , thank you," Jean breathes out, some of the words sticking in his throat as Irvin curls his fingers just so, sparking pleasure along his nerves and making his hands fist in the sheet beneath him.

A smile spreads across Irvin's face and he brings his free hand around to curl against Jean's hip, thumb pressing into the soft skin next to the jut of his hipbone. "You're always so good for me."

Jean nods rapidly, even though it wasn't a question, and he smiles wide and unrestrained as he flings an arm over his eyes, pressing the crook of his elbow down against the bridge of his nose. "Yeah," he breathes, voice trembling, "of course, shit, why wouldn't I be when you fuck so good?"

That gets a laugh out of Irvin, and he leans down to press a kiss to Jean's jaw, drags his mouth down the sharp angle of it, admiring it before moving further to suck a bruise over his pulse. Jean groans beneath him, and he changes the angle of his fingers to start thrusting in at a steady pace, still slow, but much more firm, pulling wordless cries from him every time he pushes in completely.

"Are you gonna come for me?" Irvin asks, but the answer should be obvious by how Jean is trembling beneath him, by the way he keeps spreading his legs further apart in a vain effort to pull more of Irvin into him.

"I'd rather come on your _dick_ ," Jean tells him, need making his voice high and tight.

Irvin hums thoughtfully, and shakes his head. "Not this time," he says, and pushes in harder, keeps his fingers curled and pressed up inside Jean, stroking until the trembling reaches a crescendo and Jean falls apart beneath him, pulling a string of curses and moans and high whimpers that he'll never admit to making tumbling from his lips.

Jean groans as he comes down from the high of his orgasm, still shaking, and Irvin's fingers remain inside him, soaked and stroking against him almost lazily. "You're an asshole," he mumbles, then after a moment and a yawn, adds, "sir," and Irvin laughs, the sound musical and perfect.


End file.
